“Right, now you have a choice to make.” Mollie looked at Emma with a friendly smile but a more serious tone in her voice. “And it has to be your decision, okay?” The oil-covered Guide nodded a little nervously. “Now, there’s really only one kind of spitting,” Mollie explained with a cheeky grin, “in one end and out the other!” Emma giggled. “But once its through, we have to make sure your arms and legs stay put too, and to make sure that lovely bod turns with the spit and doesn’t just spin round and round inside you while your tits burn!” Emma giggled again, relaxing her shoulders and clasping her hands behind her back. “So, there’s three ways we can do that.” Although she was still addressing Emma, she turned and spoke louder so that all the girls would hear, as this information, she hoped, would be quite interesting and educational for them regardless of which option Emma chose.

“The first,” she explained, “as I showed you in the store room, is the T-bar that goes between your elbows and locks onto the main spit. That’s the one we use nearly all the time for on-site spittings and one of only two options available for boys. If we were coming out to your camp to cook you there, that’s probably the one we’d be using but, since we’re preparing and cooking you here, we have two more options, especially as, as a girl, you have a handy second hole that boys lack!” The girls, including Emma, all giggled again and Mollie was pleased to notice Jessica playing particular attention. “The second option is to use the method developed for Sidney’s where we shove a stabiliser up your ass to make sure you move with the spit then use cuffs for your ankles and wrists. By the way,” she looked over at Jessica, “that’s the method I’m going to be using for you tomorrow since we’re transporting you alive but already spitted, meaning you’ll be riding the spit for a lot longer than usual and it’s probably the most comfortable over-all once it’s done, just more invasive to start with.” Jessica nodded, licking her lips a little in clearly excited anticipation.

“The final one is the most intense,” Mollie explained, “but some people like it! Technically it works for boys or girls and was actually developed for boys since, you know,” she winked at the girls, “as I mentioned, they only have that one hole and the spit’s gotta go somewhere!” The girls all gigged. “But since boys are wussies it was never that popular which is why we went back to the drawing board and came up with the T-frame but we do still have the equipment!” She opened a tall cupboard where the spits for use in the kitchen and the outdoor picnic area were kept. Most were typical solid poles but there were a couple that had holes in them at various intervals. Mollie took one of these out and showed it to them.

“The spit goes through the normal way,” she explained, “ass or cunt, it doesn’t really matter, although it’s a very rare meat-girl who requests that go through the back door!” There was more giggling but it was also clear that none of them could take their eyes off the spit and were trying to work out what the holes were for. “Once it’s through,” Mollie continued, “we take thin skewers, like the boob ones I showed you earlier, and put them through the holes then we can pin the arms and legs on, usually with two through the arms, one through the bicep,” she reached out and squeezed Emma’s upper arm lightly to clarify the part she was referring to, “and one thought the palms of the hands. Then three for the legs through the thighs, calves and ankles. Then we put little cork plugs on the end to keep the from pulling off.” Emma looked wide-eyed at the spit in Mollie’s hands. “So,” Mollie smiled at the meat-girl, putting the spit back in the cupboard for the moment, “let’s get you into position then you can choose. That will give you a few minutes to think it over.” Emma nodded.

In captivated silence, the girls all watched as Mollie went to the back of the kitchen and returned pushing a large, upright frame on wheels. Positioning it in front of the counter-top, she pressed the wheel lock with her foot.

“Who’s seen one of these before?” she asked. A few hands went up. “Yes?” She pointed to a cute, sporty-looking blonde of about ten years old who would look great on a spit herself. “You know what this is?”

“We saw it at Sidney’s!” the girl exclaimed in excitement. “It’s a spitting frame. It helps the piggy stay in the right position!”

“That’s right!” Mollie grinned, thinking how much she would like to get that particular girl on the frame and get a spit through her. She was not sure whether it was truly a blessing or a curse but her job had left her with the inability to avoid seeing others, girls and young women especially but also nicely put-together boys, as potential meat and seeing them naked like this just cemented that view. As she looked over the sea of happy, grinning, excited faces, she saw each and every one of them as part of her potential meal for some hypothetical future client. Still, she reminded herself, she only had four weeks left on the job before she was due to put her metaphorical money where her proverbial mouth was and ride the spit herself! Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy preparing several other tasty piggies before then. Summer was their busy season after all! “Emma, honey,” she held out her hand to the meat-girl of the moment, “can you come step up here. Onto these platforms, that’s right!” Emma did as she was asked, holding Mollie’s hand for steadiness. “Just hold onto any part of the top for now.” Mollie suggested as she knelt down to fit the thick, rubber straps around Emma’s ankles, leaving her feet locked in place a little more than shoulder-width apart.

Once Emma’s feet were securely in position, Mollie adjusted the frame so that the crossbar in the middle was perfectly aligned with the meat-girl’s waist then guided her hands to the handles at the upper corners of the frame and strapped these securely into position too. Giving Emma’s firm, meaty rump a playful slap, Mollie double-checked all the straps then unclipped the frame’s hinges and gently lowered top of the frame down so that Emma was bent over in the middle, her spit-holes exposed and easily accessible while the top half of her body lay flat, facing forward with her chemically-swollen breasts hanging down beneath her.

“Now, before I fit the chin-cup and the last strap,” Mollie smiled, leaning in close to speak to Emma in a soft voice that wouldn’t carry to the rest of the group, “I need a decision from you. Which is it going to be?”

“I think…” Emma hesitated, her cute expression both shy and nervous. “I think I’d like the spikes, please. The skewers.”

“Just to be clear,” Mollie lowered her voice to little more than a whisper to keep the conversation private. “You’re saying you’d like to go for the spit with the holes, where your arms and legs are held on with the skewers?”

“Yes.” Emma smiled sweetly. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Mollie grinned. “Something told me you were a freaky little pain-slut!” She winked at the restrained girl and gave her exposed rump another slap, harder this time, enough to leave a red mark. Emma gave a contented sigh then giggled. “Great!” She raised her voice back to its normal level. “Emma, honey, why don’t you tell your friends what you’ve chosen?”

“I’m going for the skewers!” Emma announced proudly at full volume. “Spike me up!” This was met by gasps and cheers from her friends, surprised that she should go for the most painful and intense option but also excited to get the most interesting show! Grinning, Mollie retrieved the special spit from the cupboard and took the set of skewers and their cork plugs out of one of the drawers. Leaning the spit against the counter for the moment, Mollie fixed the chin-cup in position to help Emma keep her neck straight and her mouth in the right place then fixed the final strap across the back of her neck to guard against involuntary movements.

“First we need to make sure the spit-hole is well-oiled.” the topless young woman explained, picking up the truffle oil again and splashing some onto her fingers before pushing them inside Emma’s tight cunt more aggressively than her friends had dared to, having stopped at the lips. The meat-girl moaned with pleasure as Mollie spread the oil inside her. “I assume this is the hole you want us to go in by?”

“Uh-huh!” Emma replied, unable to form any more complex sentence due to the restraints and the sensation of Mollie’s fingers inside her which only served to heighten her excitement for what was to happen.

“Good!” Mollie grinned, drawing her fingers out. “To be fair, you’re doing a pretty good job of self-basting down there but a little assistance never went amiss!” She slipped her fingers into the meat-girl’s mouth, allowing her to taste her own delicious honey mixed with the flavoured oil. Emma could feel a thick trickle down the inside of her leg but couldn’t bring herself to care enough to be embarrassed about it, even with all her friends watching. Although she was a virgin, there was no doubt the spit was going to have an easy time entering her!

The rest of the tour group, youngsters and adults alike, fell absolutely silent as Mollie lowered the business-end of the spit and pushed it between Emma’s plump, waiting lips. She began to push and Emma moaned with pleasure feeling the pole stretching her out inside and it was swallowed by her hungry young cunt. Her breathing quickened as the tip reached her cervix but, despite the resistance, Mollie did not pause, knowing it was important to keep up a steady motion, forcing it through and into her uterus. The thick pole rubbed against Emma’s throbbing clit as it forced its way deeper inside her, the waves of pleasure helping to numb the pain as the wall of her uterus resisted the spit and stretched like an un-inflated balloon. Emma gritted her teeth and stubbornly refused to cry out as the stretching in her abdomen became increasingly painful, like a horrific mix of indigestion and menstrual cramps, then suddenly there was a burst of overwhelming, burning pain followed by instant relief her uterus tore open and the spit was able to continue its journey unhindered.

Far from making her scream, however, the extreme pain blended with and amplified the pleasure of the intimate violation and Emma was unable to hold in a loud squeal not of pain or distress but brought on by the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. This seemed to break the spell of silence and her friends first burst into friendly laughter then a spontaneous round of applause broke out accompanied by cheers, whistles, whoops and shouts of shouts of encouragement as Mollie continued to push. Knowing that it would be her own turn in what was technically a matter of hours, Jessica paid particularly close attention as the spit disappeared deeper and deeper into the meat-girl’s body.

Just over a minute later, Emma began to cough and spat out flecks of blood before the spit burst through the back of her throat end emerged from her mouth. Her eyes went wide and crossed a little as she watched it extend in front of her. It felt so surreal that this hard, inorganic metal thing should be emerging from inside her own body! She had known she was meat from the moment the voting results had been announced, a knowledge reinforced when Mollie had asked her to undress and graded her body after a very thorough and intimate inspection but now it was absolutely, undeniably and unequivocally real!

With the spit now all the way through, Mollie cleaned the protruding end with a dry cloth, wiping off the thin film of oil and blood that clung to it, then unclipped and lifted the back of the frame so that Emma now lay flat, arms and legs splayed in an X-shape. Although the spit was not too heavy and its position well-balanced, there was some sense of relief as the back of the frame rose up and the metal bar between her feet took on the role of supporting its weight.

Hearing the metallic scraping behind her as Mollie slid the skewers into place, Emma instinctively tried to turn her head but realised that she could not, owing to the solid steel pole though her torso and neck.

“Come over this end for this bit!” Mollie invited and all of Emma’s friends disappeared from her field of vision as the girls all gathered behind her to watch her long, thick, toned legs pressed onto the horizontal skewers. She felt the relief of the straps being removed and her legs resting freely on the frame then the secondary skewering began. The first bite she felt was in her thighs, followed by the backs of her calves as Mollie took a firm hold of her legs, just above the ankles, and slowly but determinedly forced them together. Just as she felt the tips of the skewers bursting out the other side of her meaty thighs, the final set pierced the backs of her ankles and Mollie stopped pushing. The watching girls looked on in macabre delight as their friend-come-dinner’s legs were pierced and skewered then a thin metal cable-tie was pulled tight around her ankles to stop Emma’s legs pulling outwards. Next, Mollie moved the whole group round to the front where Emma could see them.

“You’re doing great!” she assured her, patting her rump again playfully, less sharply this time. She certainly seemed to have a liking for that particular part of her body, Emma thought, and she hoped that the nice caterer would be able to enjoy a slice or two. It seemed a fair reward for all her hard work, after all.

Although she did not mind the pain and actually found it quite enjoyable in its own way, although not as much as the spitting itself, of course, Emma found she had to close her eyes while her arms were skewered since the instinct to pull away when she saw the sharp spikes pushing into her skin was too strong and will-power alone did not seem enough to over-ride it. Fortunately, however, the process was very quick and soon Emma’s arms were pierced as securely as her wrists and she was ready for the coals.

“Are we going to cook her now?” Chloe asked, looking at her impaled friend and licking her lips. Even ‘though many of them had voted for Emma as their meal, thinking that she looked tasty and would make a great roast, seeing her like this seemed to flip a switch in their minds and she was no longer their friend, no longer even a person. Just food!

“In a few minutes!” Mollie assured her. “Don’t worry! I’m sure my colleagues are lighting the coals as we speak.” She wiped her hands on a cloth then pulled her uniform T-shirt back on without bothering with her bra this time, having got fed up with taking it on and off that day and with only a few hours of work left before she could take the sisters back to her place to make sure that their last night alive was great fun. “You and Paige should go get cleaned up by the way,” she suggested, “while I finish seasoning the piggy.”


To be continued...